All I Want for Christmas Is You
by ThurinRanger
Summary: Behold, day three of the Fanfiction Christmas countdown 2015! Anna embarks on a quest to find Kristoff the fuzzy socks he craves for Christmas, Elsa slaughters chickens, and Olaf is helpful. Sven is sheared, Christmas lights are tangled, and all will be right in the end(or will it?). DISC.: I DON'T OWN ANYTHING YOU RECOGNIZE Kplus for merciless hen slaughtering. See Author's note.


**Voila! The third installment of the Twelve Days of Christmas Countdown for 2015!**

 **:D**

 **It is I, ThurinRanger, covering the third day of Christmas.**

 **For those unaware, the Twelve Days of Christmas Countdown was started last year by three authors prominent in the Lord of the Rings fandom,** OneSizeFitsAll **,** Lily Lindsey-Aubrey **, and** rogue planet 13 **(formerly known as** ccgaylord **). Together they published a story every day for the twelve days leading up to Christmas. Needless to say, it was a lot. So, this year, a different author is covering each day.**

 **A WARNING TO HARDCORE FROZEN LOVERS: I am not a hardcore Frozen lover. I'm sorry. This story might reflect that. It is humor, it is meant to be funny. I might possibly be making fun of Frozen. If this is distressing to you, I suggest that you stay away from humor/parodies in general. :)**

 **(also, I'm not a total all-out Frozen knowledge geek. I don't think I got any of my facts wrong for the Frozen canon, but who knows. Please, nobody freak out)**

 **DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN ANYTHING YOU RECOGNIZE. I NEVER DID. I LIKELY NEVER WILL.**

 **Like my writing, and want to read more? I actually hang out in the Tolkien circles, mostly the Silmarillion, with some Lord of the Rings. You can find me there.**

 **Also, one more important thing. Not only is this story humor, but it is also an AU(alternate-universe). This means that I am not being strictly canon. Therefor, I do NOT want to see any stickler reviews about how they probably wouldn't be drinking orange-juice, or about how they wouldn't have Christmas lights back then, or a Flamer burning me to death over Anna's radio. I am well-aware of all that. I do, in fact, consider myself very knowledgable in matters of historical interest.**

 **Thank you for your time. This may very well be the longest A/N I've ever written.**

 **Sorry.**

 **Not really.**

 **:D**

"Kristoff, what do you want for Christmas?" Anna asked hopefully as she lay on her stomach, chin cupped in her hands as she surveyed the slumbering man rather impatiently. He awoke with a jerk and an odd sound that was probably a snort. Anna inconspicuously turned on the CD-player with her toe as she re-stated her question.

It was playing track three, the one she had set it on just for that occasion earlier that day. The song started slowly, 'All I Want For Christmas Is You', and Anna smiled at him optimistically.

He blinked, bleary-eyed, hoisting himself up into a sitting position and shaking his head disconcertedly.

"Why that song again?"

"Why do you think?"

"I don't know, because you're addicted to it?"

"Ugh. Kristoff, what do you want for Christmas?" she asked impatiently, letting her head drop onto the rug before her, cheek pillowed by its softness.

"Fuzzy socks." he murmured sleepily, dropping his hat over his eyes and slouching onto the couch again, promptly falling back asleep, adding blearily, "You know what I hate? Orange juice that tastes like grapefruit."

Anna perked up, alert.

"Fuzzy socks?" she inquired, searching with her toe until she successfully turned the song off.

"Mmm,"

"Why?"

"My feet are cold."

"But you have shoes. And blankets. You even have socks!"

At this Kristoff sat up, rather irritated.

"Look, you asked me what I want. I want fuzzy socks. There."

"But where do you even find-" she began, before sighing and shaking her head, realizing that he had righteously fallen back asleep.

"Anna! Anna!" Olaf called excitedly, waddling in and crashing into her, falling back onto the floor rather like a stuffed toy.

"Olaf! Be careful where you're going!" Anna chuckled, righting him again.

"Sorry, my head was backwards. It's forwards now."

"What do you want?"

"Well, Christmas is almost here, and I can't wait to make Christmas cookies!" he squealed, and Anna shook her head, rising and covering Kristoff with the blanket he had kicked onto the floor in his slumber.

"Believe me, we all know how much you want to make Christmas cookies. Come on, follow me, we need to go find Elsa, she knows where everything is in the royal kitchens."

"Ok!" Olaf cried enthusiastically. It seemed he was always enthusiastic. People often wondered why.

More specifically, Kristoff often wondered why. He was giving Olaf a gift-card for three free consultations with Sven's personal therapist for Christmas.

"Christmas cookies?" Elsa inquired, teeth bared and gritted as she tried to keep hold of a frantically squawking chicken with one hand and an axe with the other.

"What are you doing?" Anna inquired cautiously, shielding Olaf with an arm that he tried to bounce over.

"We're going to have turkey for Christmas dinner" Elsa began, viciously pinning the hen down with a knee, "so we're having chicken tonight."

"Yes-oh that's just too gross-ugh-excuse me for a moment-" Anna choked as Elsa ended the crazed bird, cupping her hand over her mouth as blood started spurting from it's neck.

"Oh how cute," Olaf sighed, clasping his hands(could they even be called that?)over where his heart would be sentimentally, "that head on the floor looks so happy."

"I did it. Booyah." Elsa muttered as Anna dragged herself back into the room by the doorframe, trying not to look at the chicken.

"So why are you-"

"Conquered." she quietly congratulated herself, smiling scarily at the deceased chicken.

"You do remember the legions of royal chefs we have, right?" Anna reminded, ducking around Elsa and hurrying over to the hooks fixed in the wall whereon hung stained, burnt, and generally well-loved aprons of all sizes.

"This is my kingdom, I'm the queen, I can cook if I want to." she assured her, grabbing a second hen out from a crate where it huddled beside another of it's kind, squawking in protest.

"And what does murdering a chicken have to do with that?"

"I got all three of them imported from France, they just arrived. Aren't they lovely? I thought we could have them for dinner."

"Er...alright. But why not have one of the cooks-"

"Anna," Elsa began seriously, tone of voice changing dramatically as she looked up to gaze straight into her little sister's alarmed eyes, "you may not know this, but I have had a lifelong fear of chickens. That ends today."

"Really? But chickens are so friendly!" Olaf cried, picking up the bloody head and cradling it lovingly. Anna decided that this would be a good time to turn away and start measuring out the flour.

"It might have had something to do with the fact that mother had an obsessive love for chicken and rice. Every Saturday, Tuesday, and Friday night! Every time!"

"You're keeping up good composure." Anna remarked, checking the date on the flour-bag.

"It's a skill-I'm having an internal nervous-breakdown. Oh, by the way, what did you come here for in the first place?" she asked, nonchalantly wiping her axe off on her apron.

"Cookies. Olaf wants to make Christmas cookies."

"Oh, don't bother. I made and froze them in batches of ten in September."

Anna wheeled around in surprise, inquiring, "Seriously?"

"Always good to stay on top of things, you know? So yeah, don't worry about it. Just remember to start the defrosting process in time for Christmas."

"Alright," Anna sighed rather disappointedly, turning as she left, remembering something, "oh, Elsa, do you know where you could buy fuzzy socks?"

"Fuzzy socks? No, why would you want those?"

"Kristoff wants some for Christmas."

"Try the vendor's market, they have all sorts of odd things."

And so, Anna pulled on a cape and hood and started down for the town square, ignoring the neglected Royal Personal-Shopper's pleas to let him do it instead.

"No," she murmured, steeling herself as she ducked under baskets of fish and out of the way of the numerous, self-absorbed people, "this is a special present for Kristoff. I will buy it myself."

The fact that the whole kingdom was in the typical-but-always-a-surprise holiday frenzy didn't help things, nor did the stubborn Royal Personal-Shopper clinging to her, somehow managing to stay afloat amid the throng.

"Please let me do the shopping!" he pleaded, as Anna wondered if wool-socks would suffice.

"No,"

The woman selling meat-pies assured her that if the man wanted fuzzy socks, normal old wool ones would simply not cut it.

"Please, I'm begging you! This is my first-ever job, and I'm not even doing anything!" he insisted, getting a semi-accidental bump on the nose as Anna reached out to inspect a pair of knee-high lace stockings.

"For the last time, no!" she cried in exasperation, pausing suddenly and taking a good look at him, confused.

"What? Just noticed I existed?"

"No...you bear a striking resemblance to-"

"Oh, I know. Hans. Everyone called me that at home, and Hans always licked me, because, apparently I was a 'little impostor'. I'm his cousin."

"Oh...ok...but why did he lick you? That's kind of gross."

The Royal Personal-Shopper raised his eyebrows at her disbelievingly.

" _Lick_ , as in beating me up. Didn't you ever go to school?"

Anna blushed, looking away.

"I was too busy running around my castle and singing."

"I heard he screwed you with a whole fake marriage-offer, right? He always does stuff like that. He's a jerk. When he was little, his older brothers say he used to make dolls of people and stab them with pins. And then he'd have them stab each other with pins. He always really creeped me out."

Anna looked at the little boy in surprise, before coming up with an idea.

"You know, Olaf always gets really stressed with buying the perfect gift for everyone. Apparently he thinks that if he doesn't get the absolute perfect present, nobody will like him anymore. He's kind of insecure that way."

The boy's eyes lit up, and he cried, "The Royal Personal-Shopper is on it!" before bolting off, disappearing into the crowd, leaving Anna sighing with relief.

She perused every booth, stall, and shop in the kingdom, slumping exhaustedly on the floor back in her and Kristoff's suite, head pillowed in Olaf's dog-bed, many hours later.

"Someone had a big day." Kristoff commented as he trudged in, kicking his boots against the doorframe to get the snow off.

"I told you to stop doing that." Anna groused, knowing what he was doing without even opening her eyes.

"You do it too. Don't try to deny it."

"Fine, I do, but that doesn't mean you can." she admitted, rolling over to watch as he made himself comfortable, putting his feet up before the fire to thaw them. "What have you been up to?" she inquired, searching with her toe for the CD-player, confused at its not being there.

"Oh, nothing much. I've just been out with Sven-"

"Sven! That's it!" she cried, bouncing up and hurrying out, mind whirling. "If I can't buy fuzzy socks," she explained to Sven as she entered the stable, stepping around a pile of forgotten and frost-bitten droppings, "I can make some!" changing the tone of her voice to a rather comical, deep one she replied, "Yes, good idea, Anna!"

"You've been hanging out with Kristoff too much." a groom teased, tossing her a brush.

Anna blushed slightly, embarrassed at having been overheard, before shaking her head. "I don't want a brush-do you have any shears?"

"Yeah, for sheep I do. But what are you going to do with shears?"

"It's a secret. Come on, Sven. Where are your shears?"

"Here's a pair."

"Why not just use a sheep?" she asked herself in that same odd voice that was supposed to be Sven, as she and the reindeer trotted out of the stables together. "Because it's for Kristoff, so using your fur will make it special." she explained, rather dismayed at the short quality of Sven's coat.

It must be understood that Anna had not the slightest idea as to how to shear anything, much less a reindeer.

And so, evening found her leaning against a half-bald reindeer in tears over her defeat.

"What did I do wrong?" she implored him, new tears springing forth as Sven shivered, feeling the absence of his previous and very-warm hair. "Because of me, Kristoff won't have fuzzy socks for Christmas, and he'll be mad about your fur being all messed up. And I forgot to order that fresh-squeezed orange-juice...and the _in-laws_ will be coming, I forgot to secure hotel reservations! And I forgot to write that appeal to the managers on their no-troll policy, darn. Oh dear, I didn't mean for it to turn out this way!"

"What's the matter, Anna?" a happier-looking-than-normal Olaf(the personal-shopper apparently had been a hit)inquired with concern as she led Sven back to the stables.

"I ruined Sven's fur. I was trying to shear him so that I could knit Kristoff fuzzy socks for Christmas, but it didn't work." she sniffed, and Olaf quietly assessed the situation for a moment, face scrunching up in thought as much as it was able, being made of snow.

"Well," he offered optimistically, patting Sven on the leg, as that was as far-up as he could reach, "there _are_ these weird light-thingies, kinda like fireflies stuck on a string. Kristoff's been playing with them all day, and there are some extra ones we could cover Sven with. They'd make him look really cool, and then everybody would be happy!" he cried giddily, and Anna could not help chuckling at his childishness.

"Alright. Could you bring them?"

"Sure! I'm a messenger girl!" he cried, and Anna dried her eyes.

"You're a boy, Olaf." she corrected, wiping her nose.

"Right. Sorry, snowmen don't really have genders. It's easy to get mixed-up." he apologized, hurrying off to fetch the lights.

He returned soon, stumbling and tangled in the Christmas lights. Anna shook her head at him, carefully disentangling the yards of lights from the squirming snowman.

"Is something the matter, Anna?" he asked earnestly as they draped them over the reindeer now stiff with cold, gazing up at her with large, sincere eyes that made her want to start crying all over again.

(how does he even have eyes?)

"Oh, I don't know." she sighed, scratching Sven behind the ears. "Kristoff's great, he really is, but, recently, he's just seemed to be kind of...distant, I guess? It's like he's caught up in a whole world that I'm not a part of, all of a sudden." she ended quietly, running a mittened hand over Sven's neck self-comfortingly.

"Kristoff was always caught up in his own little world." Olaf commented helpfully, stepping back to survey the product of his previously undiscovered Christmas-decorating skills with pride.

"It just seems like...oh I don't know. Never mind." she sighed, shaking her head.

Olaf shrugged at her in the odd way a snowman was inclined to, taking the plug and searching for an outlet. "There we go, just have to turn it on!"

"Olaf..." Anna's voice trailed off as the whole front of her suite, hanging rather precariously off the side of the castle, was fully illuminated with bright rows of Christmas lights, blinking on and off to the tune of a familiar song.

 _I don't want a lot this Christmas_

 _There is just one thing I need_

 _I don't care about the presents_

 _Underneath the Christmas tree._

"Olaf!" Kristoff cried, hanging out the window with irritation, hurrying out with the sound of several slammed doors in only his nightclothes, yanking on his boots as he leapt out into the snow. "That's not for until Christmas!"

"Oh, Kristoff!" Anna cried, hugging him as he came to them, adding, "You weren't totally ignoring me after all!"

"It's so sweet." Olaf sighed, embracing Sven as Kristoff hugged her back.

"Well...you weren't supposed to see it until Christmas, but there it is. Merry Christmas, Anna."

"But Kristoff, there aren't any fuzzy socks anywhere! I can't enjoy this, knowing I won't have anything for you. I totally dropped the ball this year." she protested, and he chuckled.

"It's alright. That Royal Personal-Shopper, or whatever he calls himself, has made it his personal mission. Apparently the Southern Isles produce fabulous fuzzy socks."

"I love you, Kristoff."

"Same." he replied softly, before moving in surprise as her head jerked up, eyes wide. "What is it?"

"Oh gosh, I think I smell burning chicken."

"And that's bad how?"

"Last time Elsa burned something she panicked, tried to shoot it with ice, missed, and froze half the palace. Hurry!"

They stopped in their tracks as a sound that resembled a rather muted explosion came from the castle, followed by a small tremor.

"Too late." she sighed, drooping as she wondered how much of the palace was frozen this time.

"It'll be alright, at least it didn't reach our suite-what happened to Sven!? Was he attacked?!" Kristoff nearly shrieked, before falling to his knees in the snow and, in his Sven voice, tragically bemoaning his fate.

 _All I want for Christmas is you._

 **There it is. Did you likey? :D**

 **Please review and tell me what you thought! (did you catch that reference to three French hens? not as skillful as** NirCele's **yesterday, but it was still there...)**

 **Also, if you want to read yesterday's, it was by** NirCele **in the** Silmarillion **fandom(and was awesome!).**

 **To my followers: Yeah, I know. I haven't posted for awhile. I'm really sorry. I miss Laurel too. But worry not, more is in the works!**

 **I sincerely hope you enjoyed, and have a wonderful holiday season!**

 **MAKE SURE to keep a look out for day #4!** Overlord Rousdower **will be doing it, tomorrow on Dec. 16th, in the** Batman/DC Comics/The Dark Knight **fandom. I don't know what the title will be yet, but be sure to keep a look out for it!**

 **:D**

 **Thank you and have an amazing day and holiday season!**

 **~Thurin**


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